is own room.

Bill Donnington suddenly discovered that Bubbles was wearing absurd,
high-heeled, London walking shoes. "Go back and put on something more
sensible," he said shortly; "I'll wait for you--we'll soon pick up the
others."

But Bubbles answered sullenly: "My heavy walking boots got wet this
morning."

Even as she spoke, she stood irresolute. Why not make her unsuitable
foot-gear an excuse for staying at home? She told herself discontentedly
that she hated the thought of this walk. But Donnington would have none
of it. "Never mind," he said firmly, "you can change your shoes and
stockings the minute you come in."

Bubbles submitted with an ill grace, and after the whole party were
clear of the islet on which stood Wyndfell Hall, she refused pettishly
to walk anywhere near him. She hung behind, even rejecting the company
of James Tapster, to whom, however, she was for the most part fitfully
gracious; and when, at length, the whole party were sorting themselves
into couples, she found herself walking last with Varick, the others
being all in front of them.

Varick was disagreeably conscious that with his present companion his
charm of manner--that something which drew to him all women and most
men--availed him not at all. Still, to-day, he was determined to get on
good terms with Bubbles. So well did he succeed that at last something
impelled her to say rather penitently: "I want to tell you that what
happened yesterday afternoon was not my fault, and that I'm very sorry
it happened, Lionel."

Donnington, who was just in front, heard Varick answer, lightly: "You
can hardly expect me to believe that, Bubbles! But I would give a good
deal to know how you do it?" As she made no answer, he went on: "It's a
remarkable thing to be able to will people into seeing something which
is not there!"

Donnington strained his ears to hear the low, defiant answer: "I give
you my word of honour that I knew nothing, _nothing_, till you came and
woke me up!"

What was it that had happened yesterday? The young man felt almost
unbearably anxious to know. All he knew was that it had greatly
affected, surprised, and disturbed those who had been there.

Suddenly Varick's tones floated again towards the listener: "I'll take
your word for it, my dear girl. After all, it's all in the picture. What
with our ghosts, our practical jokes, and so on, we're having a regular
old-fashioned Christmas! Still, when I heard Miss Brabazon g